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An Artist

That sculptor we knew, the passionate-eyed son of a quarryman,

Who astonished Rome and Paris in his meteor youth, and then

was gone, at his high tide of triumphs,

Without reason or good-bye; I have seen him again lately, after

twenty years, but not in Europe.

In desert hills I rode a horse slack-kneed with thirst. Down a

steep slope a dancing swarm

Of yellow butterflies over a shining rock made me hope water.

by Robinson Jeffers

So Many Blood-Lakes

We have now won two world-wars, neither of which concerned us, we were

slipped in. We have leveled the powers

Of Europe, that were the powers of the world, into rubble and

dependence. We have won two wars and a third is coming.

This one—will not be so easy. We were at ease while the powers of the

world were split into factions: we've changed that.

We have enjoyed fine dreams; we have dreamed of unifying the world; we

are unifying it—against us.

by Robinson Jeffers

July Fourth By The Ocean

The continent's a tamed ox, with all its mountains,

Powerful and servile; here is for plowland, here is

for park and playground, this helpless

Cataract for power; it lies behind us at heel

All docile between this ocean and the other. If

flood troubles the lowlands, or earthquake

Cracks walls, it is only a slave's blunder or the

natural

by Robinson Jeffers

Antrim

No spot of earth where men have so fiercely for ages of time

Fought and survived and cancelled each other,

Pict and Gael and Dane, McQuillan, Clandonnel, O'Neill,

Savages, the Scot, the Norman, the English,

Here in the narrow passage and the pitiless north, perpetual

Betrayals, relentless resultless fighting.

A random fury of dirks in the dark: a struggle for survival

Of hungry blind cells of life in the womb.

by Robinson Jeffers

The Epic Stars

The heroic stars spending themselves,

Coining their very flesh into bullets for the lost battle,

They must burn out at length like used candles;

And Mother Night will weep in her triumph, taking home her heroes.

There is the stuff for an epic poem—

This magnificent raid at the heart of darkness, this lost battle—

We don't know enough, we'll never know.

Oh happy Homer, taking the stars and the Gods for granted.

by Robinson Jeffers

Apology For Bad Dreams

In the purple light, heavy with redwood, the slopes drop seaward,

Headlong convexities of forest, drawn in together to the steep

ravine. Below, on the sea-cliff,

A lonely clearing; a little field of corn by the streamside; a roof

under spared trees. Then the ocean

Like a great stone someone has cut to a sharp edge and polished

to shining. Beyond it, the fountain

by Robinson Jeffers

Boats In A Fog

Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers,

The exuberant voices of music,

Have charm for children but lack nobility; it is bitter earnestness

That makes beauty; the mind

Knows, grown adult.

A sudden fog-drift muffled the ocean,

A throbbing of engines moved in it,

At length, a stone's throw out, between the rocks and the vapor,

by Robinson Jeffers

At The Fall Of An Age

(The story of Achilles rising from the dead for love of Helen

is well enough known. That of Polyxo's vengeance may be less

familiar; it can be found in Pausanias' "Description of Greece,"

explaining the Rhodian worship of Helen as Dendritis, the treegoddess.)

The scene is the fore-court of a noble dwelling on the island of

Rhodes. Portico of the house, with steps of heavy stone and

painted wooden columns, but all worn and old. Black pine-forest

on the hill behind. One great pine stands to the left of the steps,

by Robinson Jeffers

Birthday (Autobiography)

Seventy years ago my mother labored to bear me,

A twelve-pound baby with a big head,

Her first, it was plain torture. Finally they used the forceps

And dragged me out, with one prong

In my right eye, and slapped and banged me until I breathed.

I am not particularly grateful for it.

As to the eye: it remained invalid and now has a cataract.

It can see gods and spirits in its cloud,

by Robinson Jeffers

The Answer

Then what is the answer?- Not to be deluded by dreams.

To know that great civilizations have broken down into violence,

and their tyrants come, many times before.

When open violence appears, to avoid it with honor or choose

the least ugly faction; these evils are essential.

To keep one's own integrity, be merciful and uncorrupted

and not wish for evil; and not be duped

By dreams of universal justice or happiness. These dreams will

by Robinson Jeffers

The Purse-Seine

Our sardine fishermen work at night in the dark

of the moon; daylight or moonlight

They could not tell where to spread the net,

unable to see the phosphorescence of the

shoals of fish.

They work northward from Monterey, coasting

Santa Cruz; off New Year's Point or off

Pigeon Point

by Robinson Jeffers

Vulture

I had walked since dawn and lay down to rest on a bare hillside

Above the ocean. I saw through half-shut eyelids a vulture wheeling

high up in heaven,

And presently it passed again, but lower and nearer, its orbit

narrowing,

I understood then

That I was under inspection. I lay death-still and heard the flight-

feathers

by Robinson Jeffers